Chaos Rings SS
by AdarieGlitterwings
Summary: After tragedy strikes her employer's household, Sashael is hired as a maid at Phantomhive Manor. But before she has even worked a full day there, a strange eclipse casts the world into darkness, and she finds herself in a strange place alongside the one person she never expected to associate with! *May be re-rated M at a later time*
1. The End

Sashael frowned at the room. The bed was a mess, the covers half on the floor, and there was a brown stain where the Master had spilt his morning tea. She sighed as she spotted the torn curtains – the butler was _not_ going to be pleased with that; these were the third set ruined this month alone. Hands on hips, she wished – not for the first time – that he would take on another maid; three were not enough for a house this size, even if it was one of the smaller ones surrounding the busy city of London.

Taking a deep breath, Sashael set to work, stripping the bed, carefully picking out shards of broken china, and using the sheets as a sack for the rest of the linens.

'There goes the rose set.' she thought to herself, placing the last chunk of teacup on the silver tray she had found shoved under the bed. 'He could at least buy whores who appreciate good china.'

Sashael flinched – she'd probably pay for that thought later – and tucked the bundle of linens into the trolley at the door before clambering up on the back of a nearby armchair to start taking down the ruined curtains. Of course, if anyone caught her like this, she would be in a lot of trouble, but she had learnt to be cautious in the year she had been employed here. Not that she hadn't been cautious before; being constantly on the move reduced the chance of being found out.

Until the Master had found her, at least. Then it was either work for him or he told the world about her.

Her work done, for now, Sashael added the curtains to the heap on the trolley and wheeled it out of the room and down the gilded hallway, nodding to the maid with the clean linens as she passed. She emptied the trolley into the dumb waiter and sent it down to the laundry before tucking the trolley into the hidden cupboard, retrieving a duster and setting to work cleaning the whole house.

That afternoon, Sashael headed to her bedroom and changed into a clean uniform and redo her hair so she was presentable to wait at table that evening. The Master was having one of his famous dinner parties – rumour was the young Earl Phantomhive was coming. The butler was very stressed, worrying what the young noble's butler – who the earl was rarely seen without – would think of the house, and doing everything over himself, as if he hadn't insisted on watching the servants do it the first time around.

Checking her reflection in the cracked mirror – it had previously resided in the main dining room until it was broken when the Master popped a champagne bottle a little too enthusiastically and sent the cork flying into the mirror; the butler despised throwing things out if there was 'still some use in them', and so Sashael received it – she tucked away a couple of stray hairs then checked the clock. She had time.

Making sure she was alone, she knelt, bowed her head and opened her mind.

"Lord." She said when she felt the connection.

"What do you have for me, Sashael?" He replied.

"Merely checking in, Lord. Do you have any new instructions for me?"

"You have not brought me any news in a long time, Sashael. I am left pondering your usefulness."

"I sincerely apologise, Lord. I have not been allowed to leave the house since my employment here."

"It has been a year, Sashael. If you cannot leave the house, then I have no use for you as my Earthly Agent. Farewell, Sashael. If circumstances change, maybe then I shall be in contact." The connection closed.

Sashael took a deep breath, holding back tears, then stood, brushed off the front of her dress and paused for a minute to compose herself. Of all the things that He could have said, that was about the worst. She checked the clock again – only five minutes had passed – and reported to the kitchen.

It was almost time for the party, and several silver-gilt trays of hors d'oeuvres sat on the sideboard waiting to be carefully carried upstairs. The rest of the staff, except the cook and her helpers, were lined up in front of the butler, all wearing their cleanest clothes.

"Everyone here?" The butler asked as Sashael joined the line. "Right. This is a very important night. The Earl Phantomhive has already arrived, and we all need to do our best to make the Master look as good as possible. You will all have heard the rumours going around insinuating the Master in the opium trade – we need to do all we can to assure the young Earl that those rumours are _wrong_. And try to keep the butler happy, alright?" He clapped his hands twice. "Now, everyone, back to work! Take a tray each, and start circulating the room in about five minutes. I will be on the door until all the guests have arrived. Once your tray is empty, come back downstairs and wait until I return. Then I will have more instructions for you." With that, he dashed up the stairs, reaching the top just as the bell by the door started frantically ringing. The Master's guests all usually had a habit of all arriving at once, usually from another party held in the city itself.

"Gracious Lord, you would think we'd never served a party before!" The youngest maid said, earning herself a discrete glare from Sashael, which she didn't notice. "Ooh, but I can't wait until we meet the Earl's butler! I've heard he's so gorgeous as to make an angel swoon!"

"Oh, Beth, get a hold of yourself! You'll make young Henry jealous!" The cook said as she added one last tray to the ones waiting.

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him." Beth said, doing her best to smile slyly back at the portly woman.

"If he passes his tests, there won't be much he won't eventually find out." The chauffeur winked. "You should count yourself lucky; having a young copper as a 'gentleman caller'!"

Beth blushed a brilliant red, and started brushing imaginary dust from the front of her dress, causing most of the others to start laughing.

Sashael saw the glint of a tear, and went over to her, putting a friendly arm around her young colleague's shoulders.

"Don't worry about them, hun. They're just jealous of your young man. How many of them do you think are going to bag themselves a good looking young policeman like yours?" She reassured.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." Beth argued, a small smile decorating her heart-shaped face.

"Would I say that were it not truth?" Sashael said, removing her arm to offer a handkerchief. "Now come on, our five minutes is about up. Are you ready to go up?" She waited for Beth to nod before taking a tray and lining up behind the rest of the waiters at the foot of the stairs, the young woman stepping up behind.

They set off up the stairs and towards the ballroom, each servant an equal distance behind the previous. Passing through the doors, they fanned out and began presenting their offerings to the groups scattered around the elegant room.

As Sashael passed from group to tipsy group, she couldn't help but look around for the famous child Earl. He had built quite the reputation since his sudden reappearance on the scene, quite apart from the reputation the Phantomhive family already had as the 'Queen's Watchdogs'. News was already spreading around the city of strange happenings at Weston College, and that the young Earl Phantomhive had been seen at the school during those times.

Suddenly Sashael caught a glimpse of the boy, standing at the edge of the room with a tall, dark man – who must be the infamous butler – watching the rest of the guests. A feeling of darkness overcame her, and she masked a shudder as she turned away, offering her tray to the nearest group.

"– so then I said, 'let her do as she wants, I'm paying her enough!" The nearest 'gentleman' finished, and laughed raucously with the rest of his listeners. "Ah, lovely, don't mind if I do!" He said, spotting Sashael. He reached over and took one of the remaining caviar dumplings she offered, then turned back to the group.

Sashael turned to leave, and felt a pudgy hand grope her behind. The group behind her laughed again, louder, as she took a breath and headed away, doing her best to ignore the unwanted attention.

In doing so, she found herself face to face with the young Earl.

"Caviar dumpling, sir?" She asked as graciously as she could, bending slightly to offer the tray.

"Oh, no thank-you." The boy answered, distracted, and Sashael curtsied and left. Again, a dark feeling washed over her, and she glanced back to see the butler watching her.

Beth was right – he was good looking. She didn't feel like swooning though; more like running.

Sashael dreaded going back upstairs, even if the guests would all be seated and so unable to reach her. She'd been groped a total of six times as she'd circulated the room with her tray.

The butler had just dashed back upstairs, having finished his pre-dinner instructions, and everyone was getting ready to take up the entrée, a richly spiced cream-pumpkin soup. The whole kitchen smelt of the goose that waiting to go into the oven, and the cook was studiously grinding the thyme, rosemary, salt and peppers to season it with – a job one of her assistants should have done beforehand. The assistant in question was trying her best not to cry while cutting up the oranges and limes.

"This idea of yours had better work." The cook growled at her head assistant.

"Of course it will, Mavis, stop worrying. With your skill, it'll taste even better than if they'd cooked it at the Langham." He replied as he chopped up some specially purchased Funtom chocolate for the dessert.

A sudden hush fell over the kitchen, and Sashael turned back to see the Phantomhive butler descend the last of the stairs.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted them. "I trust everything is going well?"

"Oh, Mr. Michaelis! How unexpected!" The cook cried, almost dropping the pestle in her surprise.

"Call me Sebastian, please!" He smiled, his dark brown eyes sparkling. He winked at the sobbing assistant, and she stopped almost immediately.

Sashael noticed his discrete glance around the room, and caught on to what was going on.

'He must be here because of the Earl.' She thought. 'They're investigating the opium rumours.'

The butler's dark eyes – which were more of a deep reddish-brown, Sashael realised – suddenly stopped on her, and he seemed a bit taken aback, like he'd seen her properly for the first time. She felt herself blush slightly, as was actually relieved when the small bell rang to inform them it was time to take up the soup. He couldn't have worked out who she was, could he?

But if someone like the Master, who found great pride in apparently knowing everyone and everything, could, then the Phantomhive butler definitely could.

At least the Master was usually too busy partying to put much use to his supposed knowledge.

Upon reaching the dining room, Sashael suppressed a grimace when she realised the first guest she would be serving would be the man who first groped her. She sincerely hope that that was all he would attempt this evening and tried her best to serve him as she would anyone else. She managed to deposit his soup before him without trouble and rounded the seat next to him to serve his companion.

She glanced up at the young earl, who was placed opposite, and saw him grimace at the soup before dipping his spoon and taking a sip. Straightening up, she walked out of the room and down the stairs to find Sebastian had made himself quite at home, and the cook had left all of the dinner work to her assistants to chat with the tall man.

He glanced up at her through his unbelievably black hair before returning his smiling attention to the cook, who was too busy regaling him with every tale about the household she could think of to notice his momentary distraction.

Ignoring the pale man was no mean feat, but she managed as best she could as she grabbed a small dish and spooned out her share of the remaining soup for herself and sat as far from the pair as she could. She couldn't help but listen to the conversation, however, and felt herself pale as the topic turned to her hiring.

"It was quite unexpected." The cook was saying, oblivious to Sashael's presence. "The Master himself came downstairs with her and told Vincent he had found quite the treasure for us. I thought he'd decided to bring one of his painted ladies into the household, but when he announced that he wanted her as his personal maid we were all amazed. Even more so when he then seemingly forgot about her. She's just one of the normal girls now, always does the best work too, and she's never put a foot wrong. I always said she's too good for this house, she is." This was the first Sashael had heard her say it. "She'd be far more suited for the Palace or somewhere like that."

"Of course." Sebastian stopped her smoothly. "But we were talking about Lord Mason, remember?"

"Oh, my, I have gotten distracted!" The cook _giggled._ Sashael grimaced at her soup and finished the last dregs before tucking the dish and spoon in with the rest of the used crockery beside the sink for the newest kitchen-hand to clean and heading back upstairs to retrieve any empty bowls.

The dining room was filled with energetic chatter from the Master and his favourite guests, the rest of them left to talk amongst themselves at the other end of the table. In the middle, Earl Phantomhive was sat, scowling at one group then the other, joining neither.

Sashael approached the boy.

"Is there anything I can assist you with, my Lord?" She asked, and he turned, gazing into her eyes with his solitary blue.

"No." He responded sulkily, remembering his manners at the last instant. "But thank-you for offering."

Sashael retreated to the corner, but not before she heard the young Earl murmur:

"Any minute now. Then we'll see who the 'stupid child' is."

This made Sashael quite nervous. What had the young man and his butler planned for this evening? They must have set a trap for the Master. She only hoped that it didn't cause too much trouble.

Soon, the last bowl had been emptied, and she joined the rest of the waiting staff in gathering the crockery and returning it to the sink downstairs, before retrieving a large plate for the main course to be served onto. The cook had, finally, returned to her work, her face a vivid crimson, and everyone was stealing glances at the Phantomhive butler, who was now having a quiet discussion with the chauffeur.

'Makes more sense than talking to Mavis.' Sashael reflected, as the head assistant loaded her plate with a variety of vegetables before topping the lot with a citrus-smelling serve of roast goose. She joined the line, and once the last servant had joined, returned to the dining room once more.

As Sashael passed through the entry hall towards the dining room, a pair of humanoid shapes appeared at the door, and as the bell announced their presence the butler scuttled out of the dining room to allow them inside.

Inside the brightly lit room, none of the guests had even looked up from their discourse at the butler's rapid departure, and took even less notice of the servers as their dinner was placed before them, turning from their conversations only to spear a chunk of meat to shove greedily into their mouths. Oh how Sashael wished the Master had better taste in dinner guests!

She had barely returned to the corner of the room when the butler returned, a pair of silk-clad Chinese people close behind him. The man was clad all in green, and in his hands was an ornately carved box. The woman was shorter, her head just reaching the man's shoulders, and her blue dress barely covered her. Her sharp gaze swept the room before settling on the Master.

"A gentleman called Lau to see you, sir, and his companion Ran-Mao." The butler introduced them, before ducking out of the room.

Lau somehow watched him leave through closed eyes – though Sashael suspected they were merely held just open enough to see by – then turned his attention back to the table.

"Ah, Lord Mason, you held a party without us! How could you, Ran-Mao is devastated, aren't you?" He cried, pretending to wipe away a tear. "But no worries, there's always next time, isn't there?"

"What do you want?" The Master demanded.

"I decided I would bring you your shipment personally, Lord Mason! I have a sample here, as you requested. The rest is in the back of my motor car. I could have that brought in too if you wish? Though you don't seem to have the equipment here…" Lao looked around the room, and Sashael caught a wink aimed at Earl Phantomhive. So this was what he had planned – an attempt to get the Master to blurt out incriminating information in front of all of his guests. Very cunning.

"What are you talking about, man? Spit it out! And stop squinting at me, damn Chinks!" He guffawed at his weak joke, looking around the table for approval and finding little more than drunken curiosity staring back.

"Why, no need to play dumb, Lord Mason! I think we all know what I mean!" The Asian laughed, placing a hand on Ran-Mao's arm to calm her. She hadn't taken the Master's comment very well.

The Master's eyebrows rose even further, almost disappearing into his greased hair. "How dare you! You come into _my_ house, you start babbling complete nonsense at me, and then you accuse _me_ of playing the fool? I demand you leave at once, sir!"

Sashael took a deep breath. The Master always tried to seem more distinguished than he was when he was riled up. Instead, it was actually quite amusing to hear the foolish fop come out with all the nonsense he thought was expected of one of his apparent status.

Lau took a breath, preparing a response, when with a crash, several darkly dressed thugs smashed into the room through the French windows on the other side of the table, followed by a richly dressed man with a slim cane. The entire room fell deathly silent as the newcomer raised his cane to point at the Master.

"Kill them all. But leave the swindling young fool alive." He ordered his thugs, and the room erupted into chaos.

The women were screaming, the men rushing and fumbling for weapons in a vain attempt to protect themselves and their gold-digging companions. Only Earl Phantomhive seemed unfazed by the attack. Was this all part of his plan?

No; it couldn't be. He carefully raised his eye-patch and said something, but in the racket of screams and the sickening sounds of wooden clubs sinking into skulls, his voice was drowned out. He replaced his eye-patch and retreated into the corner, doing his best not to be seen.

That was all Sashael saw before she was set upon by one of the thugs. His club was raised high, ready to be brought crashing down on her, but she quickly stepped inside the brute's reach and brought her knee swiftly up into his groin. He bent over, going cross-eyed, and fell to the floor whimpering. She kicked him again in the temple, knocking him out cold, then stepped back – just in time to avoid a silver knife, which sailed across her vision before burying itself in another thug's forehead, killing him instantly.

Following the trajectory, she found herself staring in wonder at the blur that was the Phantomhive butler, sending knife after knife sailing across the room to become embedded in some hapless man. More and more thugs poured into the room from the veranda and through the door from the hall, and it became increasingly obvious that there was no way that everyone would make it out alive.

In all the chaos, Sashael had lost sight of the man who had started it all. Lau and Ran-Mao were fighting back to back, the girl proving the more deadly of the two, and Earl Phantomhive was under a side-table. Many of the guests where lying on the Indian carpet, dead or dying, along with the first wave of thugs. It seemed that they had forgotten their orders, as the Master was lying propped up against the fireplace, bleeding from a wound to his temple, but Sashael saw his chest rise and fall once before she was distracted by another attacker making a beeline for her.

This one had nothing but his fists, but that wasn't going to stop him. He lashed out at a female guest as he passed her panicked form, leaving a red fist-shaped stain on her stomach from the blood already coating his hands, and she crumpled, winded.

Sashael didn't wait for him to arrive, instead taking a step forward, hiking up her skirts – oh how she hated fighting – and span deftly around, her right foot slamming into the heavy-set man's temple at around the same time as a fork slammed into his eye. He screamed, in a much higher pitch than she expected of a man his size, and turning, almost made it back outside before tripping over the prone corpse of one of the maids, landing face first.

Flinching, Sashael dropped her dress and turned, glaring at Sebastian. He merely shrugged, in a 'can't be helped' manner, and snatched up the rest of the cutlery from where it now lay at the foot of the overturned dinner table.

She spotted one of the thugs bending down near the table where the young Earl was hiding, and since the Phantomhive butler didn't seem to have noticed him yet in the ruckus, she snatched up a plate and tossed it at the bent figure. The 'Willow Pattern' china flew straight into the back of the man's head, and he crumpled to the floor. As his head slammed onto the floor, the Earl took a knife that had been missed by his servant and viciously stabbed the man's throat.

Shocked at the boy's murder of his attacker, Sashael looked around the room to see that most of the thugs were down, along with all of the party guests and the servants. Lau and Ran-Mao stood atop the shattered glass, the girl holding the Master up by the ears. Evidently he had attempted to flee the scene along with the rest of the now-terrified thugs, and had been spotted by the deceptive Asians.

Earl Phantomhive clambered out from beneath the small table, assisted by his lethal butler, and picked his way across the room towards the trio, pausing only to nod his appreciation to Sashael. The butler was watching her, a calculating glint in his mahogany eyes, and she swiftly looked away and saw to her prone colleagues.

It was no use. Not one of them had survived the encounter; since they had all been gathered near the French windows, they would have been first to be attacked by the invading force. Sashael silently prayed for their souls, then rose and turned towards the conniving group, which was now gathered on the veranda.

"Do you know who that man was?" The Earl asked the Master, who was knelt before the boy, his captors standing behind him to ensure he stayed.

The Master shook his head, quivering before his interrogator, and obviously lying.

"Lord Mason. I will not put up with foolishness. Now answer me! Do you know that man?"

The Master winced before replying. "Yes."

"Well then?" Sebastian said quietly.

"He… he…" The Master gulped. "He is – was – my supplier!"

"Your supplier?" the young lord asked.

"He sold me opium. I'd buy up as much of his supply as I could then sell it on to whoever wanted some." He started quietly crying, "They're all dead…" He sobbed.

"Why would he want you dead?"

Sebastian cleared his throat, but was waved to silence by his master.

"Be – because I told him I wasn't going to buy any more! I told him I was going to stop dealing and go to the authorities! I was going to get married and she wanted me to stop… oh Mary…"

Sebastian coughed again, and Sashael caught the smell of burning in the air. Turning, she saw a glow in the narrow kitchen window and smoke was also pouring out of an upstairs window.

"My lord, I believe it is time we took this elsewhere." Suggested the still neatly dressed man. "I do not believe this place will be standing for too much longer."

Black smoke was pouring from more and more windows as they spoke – Sashael found herself sincerely wishing the Master hadn't had such a rich taste in flammable furniture – so Lau and Ran-Mao started tugging the Master towards the path around the side of the house. He rose, and they all headed around the house towards where all the vehicles were parked just in time to see one last remaining thug dashing from the house, a large, empty glass jug that was usually used to hold extra fuel for motor cars clutched tightly in one hand.

That explained the rapidity with which the fire was spreading.

"I have all I need. Let him go, Lau." The young Earl ordered, turning his back on their now fleeing captive. "Let's go, Sebastian."

Lau and Ran-Mao clambered into one motor car, zooming away in a rush of gravel, and Earl Phantomhive clambered into the back of another.

"One moment, my Lord." Sebastian bowed to the small figure and turned towards Sashael.

"You handled yourself quite well back there." He commented.

"Thank-you." Sashael replied stiffly. What was she to do now?

"It seems that now, however, you are out of a job and a house. I have need of another maid in our household, and I believe I might have use of your… talents."

"You know what I am." Sashael replied bluntly.

"Yes. And I believe you know what I am."

"Yes."

"Then, shall we?" The demon opened the opposite door into the car, and the angel clambered inside, mentally preparing herself for a new life in the employ of Ciel Phantomhive.


	2. The First Day

The car ride had been rather awkward, the young Earl either glaring at Sashael or at the scenery speeding past, while either he or his butler asked the occasional question of her, and she was quite relieved when they reached Phantomhive Manor and Sebastian showed her to her room, promising a proper tour of the house and to introduce her to her new colleagues in the morning.

Closing the door on the retreating back of the tall butler, she heaved a sigh and began to think thoroughly through what had happened that evening.

Come to think of it, how did she know that Sebastian was a demon? All she had was a sense of foreboding when near him, but she had felt that, to a lesser extent, all day; being near him just magnified it. But then, she hadn't felt that afterwards in the car, just that he was capable of very dangerous things. Come to think of it, he was the first demon that she had actually met in the twenty years she had roamed the earth, spying on the humans and aiding the Lord in his calculations on their preparedness for His Son's return.

Thinking of that brought a small smile to her face. Since Jesus' teachings had finally been gathered into one book around the turn of the century, people had been under the misconception that His Son's return would mean Armageddon, the end of mankind. The poor creatures had no idea that what He really intended for his son was to try to fix everything that had gone wrong since his crucifixion; He had never meant for His people to be so divided and against each other, and he definitely never wanted them to kill each other in his name. One of his greatest regrets was that He had been misunderstood by one of his prophets and that that had been copied down into the Book.

But then, how did Sebastian know that she was an angel? True, the way she fought could have given it away, but there were many women nowadays learning how to defend themselves. There was even talk Above of allowing women into the Grim Reaper Dispatch, though the idea was that they would be taking on the suicides and the elderly, and others who would be welcoming their death.

Sashael suppressed a yawn, and stripped down to her undergarment, falling onto the bed with a 'floomph'. Not long after, she was fast asleep.

Sashael tripped, the stockings she'd found in the drawers flying across the room, when a rapid knocking on her door caused her to jump. Clambering to her feet, she pulled her undergarment down from around her waist and slowly opened the door, peering through the crack to view her visitor.

The door was barged open by an excited red-haired young woman, wearing huge round spectacles and a knee-length maid's dress.

"I can't believe it! I get to make a new friend, yes I do! You will be my friend, won't you? Oh do say you will!" the woman – no, _girl_ – babbled while bouncing on the spot.

"Um…" Sashael said awkwardly, glancing at the clothing she had yet to don.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The maid cried, and started back towards the door. "I'll be just outside, I will. Oh I'm so happy!" The door slammed behind her, and Sashael could practically feel her vibrating with energy from where she stood near the wardrobe on the other side of the room.

She got dressed carefully, all the while wondering who the bouncing young lady was, then checked her hair and, taking a deep breath, opened the door.

"Oooh! Are you ready now? You're going to love it here! Master Ciel is such a good person, yes he is! He's so kind and –"

"Um, I'm sorry, but who are you?" Sashael interrupted her.

"Oh, I'm Mey-rin, I am! I'm the maid here – the other maid now! Mister Sebastian is busy with Master Ciel, he is, so I will show you around and you'll get to meet everyone else!"

"I am Sashael. Let's go meet everyone!" Sashael said, smiling. Mey-rin's excitement was contagious.

She followed the skipping girl along the corridor, until the pretty redhead tripped on her shoelaces, which had come untied. Dashing forward, she caught her before she crashed into the smooth floor tiles.

"Oh, dear! Thank you so much!" Mey-rin said, bending down and fiddling with her laces. It was obvious she was having a little trouble with them, so Sashael knelt down and shooed her hands away, re-tying them herself and tucking the ends into the front of the boot, between the lace and the tongue.

"There. Now they won't come untied again!" She said as she straightened up.

"Wow! I hadn't ever thought of doing that before, I hadn't! You must be a genius!"

Sashael blushed. "No I'm not. Shall we?" She gestured towards the stairs and they continued on down into the main house. The building was much larger than the Master's house, with many bedrooms and even a games room.

Down a sweeping staircase into the main hall, Mey-rin lead her through the lower floor, around a huge ballroom, a grand dining room and a beautiful parlour, as well as a cosy classroom and a sweet retiring room for the ladies.

The kitchen, however, showed signs of having been rebuilt several times; the plaster was a very bright clean white where it was new, and charred black in the older sections of wall. At least, because of that, it had all the 'mod-cons', with a brand new oven. The cook was standing just outside the kitchen door smoking a dog-eared cigarette.

"This is Bardroy, this is! He's the chef." Mey-rin said, dragging the tall, blond man around the doorframe. "Say hello to Sashael, Bard!"

"Hello to Sashael, Bard!" The man joked in an American accent. "Ha ha! Always nice to have a new face around here." He vigorously shook her hand. "Now, quick question, which do you think would be the best way to roast a turkey, flamethrower or dynamite?"

Sashael paused, searching for a hint of humour on his grinning face, but it seemed his question was a serious one.

"Um, I think a flamethrower would be best, if you must use heavy artillery to cook with." She responded. "Dynamite would blow it all over the garden and I'm not sure the guests would much enjoy playing 'Hide and Seek' with their meal."

"Ha ha ha!" Bard laughed riotously. "I like the way you think, little lady!" He winked, and returned to the garden to finish his cigarette.

"Ooh, don't tell Mister Sebastian you said that! Bard always gets in so much trouble when he blows up the kitchen, he does!" Mey-rin giggled as she led Sashael out and through the rest of the back passages of the house, towards the servant rooms for those of a higher rank.

"There's Mister Sebastian's room there." The bright girl pointed to a door, behind which came a muffled 'meow'. "Aww, he's got another cat in there! He's always hiding cats in his closet, he is!"

The next door was open, leading into a smallish room in which sat a distinguished older Japanese man, who turned as they approached, silently toasting them with his teacup.

"Good morning, Tanaka!" Smiled Mey-rin. "This is Sashael, she's our new maid, she is!"

"Good morning!" The gentleman said sunnily, and returned his attention to his tea-set.

"He was the butler when Master Ciel's father was the Earl." Mey-rin explained, more subdued now as they finished their tour of the house. "Tragic, that was. Whole house burnt down in one night, it did. Only Master Ciel and Tanaka survived. Awful, it was."

Sashael bowed her head. She'd heard about it when she was wandering around Manchester, and a little over a month on, while in an inn a little way up the road north, she had heard about how a man had passed the manor to find it completely rebuilt.

Wandering through the gardens, she marvelled at the beauty of them. Every hedge was neatly trimmed, and every rose was in full bloom, sending their sweet smell to ride the wind towards the house. A young boy was skipping merrily along the gravel path before them.

"Oh, Finny! Come meet Sashael! He's our gardener, he is." Mey-rin explained as the happy teen trotted over to them.

"Pleased to meet you, Sashael!" He grinned brilliantly. "Don't you just love being outside? Look; a butterfly!" He sped off, his straw hat straining on the string that held it around his shoulders, after the pretty, flittering creature.

"Well, time to get to work, it is. Got some laundry to do first." Mey-rin started off back inside.

"Wait, is that really everyone?" Sashael asked.

"Yep!"

"Huh." Sashael had the smallest of doubts – how did so few people uphold such a large house? There were even fewer people here than at the Mas- at Lord Mason's house, and they had struggled there. But then, when the head of the household is merely thirteen, there can't be that much trouble to deal with, can there? But then, everyone she had met here – bubbly Mey-rin, quiet Tanaka, over-enthusiastic Bardroy and happy little Finny – had had an aura of capability, suggesting that the main reason they were hired was not because they were good at the job they had been given.

Sashael thought back on the circumstances which had led to her employment with the Phantomhives. Sebastian definitely hadn't hired her because she had served the appetisers or the soup particularly well. Obviously everyone here had some form of combat ability to bring to the table. Just what had she gotten into?!

Luckily, with such a small household, that meant the pile of laundry that needed doing was small, and between the two of them, it barely took more than an hour to do it all. Piling all the wet clothing and linens into a pair of wicker baskets, they started towards an area of the garden that was surrounded by high walls, so that guests didn't have to see the laundry on the washing line.

Halfway down the corridor, Sebastian appeared, and after a quick chat with Mey-rin, pulled Sashael aside, placing her laundry basket on the floor.

"So what is an angel doing all the way down here?" He asked quietly, smirking.

"What is a demon doing all the way up here?" She asked instead.

"Ah ah, I believe I asked the question first." He waved a long, gloved finger under her nose.

"Above has questions that need answering. I was sent to answer them." Sashael responded.

"Indeed." Sebastian pondered her response.

"Though, if you absolutely must know, I am not in His good books at the moment."

"Are you not? That is a shame."

"Don't patronise me, demon." Sashael frowned. At least she hadn't been proven wrong on her assumption on his nature.

"Patronise you? Now why would I do that?" the butler looked taken aback, but knowing how tricky demons can be, Sashael knew it was just an act.

"I believe it is now your turn to answer the question."

"I am simply fulfilling a contract between myself and my Master."

"I see. They did wonder why the Dispatch did not mention the boy in their records. I suppose it is a good thing for you that I cannot report this." Sashael said, then slipped out from his enclosing arm and, retrieving the basket of linens, continued on and out the door, joining Mey-rin in hanging out the washing.

For some reason, Sashael felt she didn't mean her threat as much as she thought she should have.

'I've been here too long; starting to think how the humans do.' She thought, throwing a large cream-coloured bed-sheet across the wire and pinning it in place.

The laundry hung, Sashael knuckled her back and surveyed the area. The washing was blowing gently in the light breeze, swaying almost in rhythm with a tall rosemary plant growing along the wall. The rest of the area was mostly taken up by a vegetable and herb garden, with the remaining area not used by the washing line containing a small table-and-chair set, and ash-tray sitting pride of place in the centre.

She liked this place. Master Ciel was very definitely not like Lord Mason; even the servants' quarters had new furniture in, though that might be because of the fire.

"Come on, Sash, lunch time!" Mey-rin cried, tugging on her arm and pulling her back inside.

Back in the kitchen, the rest of the staff were there, except for the butler, who would be busy serving the Earl his meal. On the table sat five plates, filled brimming with fruit, cheese and bread.

"Well, the meals here are definitely better than I am used to!" Sashael said, looking at Bard while sitting down.

"Oh, ha ha! You'll have to thank Sebastian for this! Had to throw out what I made; turns out a flamethrower isn't too good a cooking tool after all!" he laughed, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, um… well then…" Sashael had no response, blushing in empathic embarrassment herself, and fell silent, concentrating on finishing the food.

Everyone else was happily chattering between bites, giggling away at their own jokes and bad puns. Once lunch was finished, everyone pitched in to clean up; Sashael gathering the plates, Mey-rin washing them and Bard drying them, while Finny carefully stacked them in the cupboard like they were going to explode any second.

As the last fork was tucked away, Sebastian strolled into the room and surveyed the group.

"Listen up, everybody. The Lady Elizabeth will be joining the young Master for dinner tonight, so I will need you all to work as hard as you can to get the dining room up to her standards. Mey-rin, you will have to help Sashael learn what is expected of her from the young Lady." After another quick glance around the group, his gaze resting a moment longer on Sashael than on the others, he left, heading back into the main house.

"Oh, yay!" Mey-rin grinned. "It's always fun when Lady Lizzy comes over, yes it is!" She was almost bouncing on the spot, such was her excitement.

"That's all well and good, but hadn't we better get the laundry in first?" Sashael smiled at the happy little woman.

"Oh, yes, of course! It should be dry by now, yes it should!" The girl trotted out into the courtyard, followed by her grinning colleague, and they began un-pegging the flapping sheets and folding them into the basket.

"It's getting a bit dark, isn't it?" Mey-rin asked as the light suddenly started dimming.

Sashael turned to look up at the afternoon sun, and saw that a large object was slowly sliding to cover it. An eclipse? But the moon was nowhere to be seen a few minutes ago…

"Oh, Finny, Bard, come look, quick!" Sashael heard Mey-rin shout, and two hurried pairs of footsteps came crashing into the courtyard, and their owners immediately began gasping and announcing their wonder at the spectacle before them.

Whatever the object was, it soon completely covered the sun, casting the group into darkness. Squinting, Sashael was sure she could see something else there, some sort of pattern or something like it.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a great maw opening, revealing row upon row of sharp, glinting teeth.


	3. Waking With Strangers

The process of waking from unconsciousness was a relatively new experience for Sashael. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position and carefully opened her eyes, blinking a few times as they adjusted to the dimmer light emanating from several candelabras scattered around the large golden room she found herself in. And she was not alone.

The nearest people were a young man and woman, their skin the darkest she'd ever seen. They were wearing clothes that looked to be several years older than the pair, and much worn besides. The man, obviously only just out of boyhood, held a brightly painted boomerang, and the girl with him had a short spear. Both looked as confused as Sashael felt.

Over on the other side of the room was another couple, a little older than the worried pair, who had an aura of sureness that Sashael could feel from where she sat. The man was dressed in a pair of tight green breeches, his brown shirt tucked neatly into them, and his cream coloured coat fell to his knees, the hem lined with white fur. The woman beside him wore an ankle-length dress, most of it covered by a maroon apron and a coat that matched her partner's, and as Sashael watched, she dropped her large kitchen knife to fix the kerchief that held back her straw coloured hair.

The last pair were standing quietly in front of a huge pair of wooden doors, whispering in near silence as they gazed around the room. He was wearing a short blue wrap-around that was only a couple of inches shorter than the navy shorts he wore, making him look a lot younger than he actually was. The girl with him was wearing a beautiful peach silk kimono and her hair was wrapped in a neat bun on the top of her head. As Sashael watched, the boy put a hand to his head, as if in pain, and the girl raised a comforting hand.

"Are you planning on sitting on the floor the whole time that we are here?" Said a familiar voice next to her, and she looked up to see Sebastian staring down at her, the smallest hint of a smirk on his pale face. Of all the people, he was the last she wished to see right now.

"I assume you do not know what this place is either?" Sashael asked as she clambered to her feet, refusing the butler's offered hand.

"Of course not. I have only been here as long as you, and, I suspect, everyone else." He curtly responded, lowering his hand. "Who do you think these other people are?"

"How should I know? It is a rather diverse group. I cannot even be sure of where they are all from." Sashael brushed down her dress. "As for why we are here… well, we must have been brought here for a reason."

"You don't know either?" a stranger's voice joined their conversation, and Sashael looked around to see that the coloured pair had moved to join them.

"I do not think any of us here do." She replied, and the woman's shoulders fell slightly.

"I had hoped that someone would know. Ah well, we will find out soon enough, I hope." The girl said resignedly.

"You speak very good Wathaurong for white folk. Indeed, I have never heard someone of your kind speak it so eloquently before." The man commented, causing a moment's confusion for the Phantomhive employees.

"Oh, but I was about to congratulate you on your excellent grasp of the English language." Sebastian said, also confusing the other pair.

"This place must have some sort of translation matrix. That must be why we can understand each other." Sashael pondered. "It might also be why our words seem out of synchronisation with our pronunciation." The young couple looked at each other, then shrugged.

"Some sort of machine that makes your words sound like English to us and ours to sound like your language to you." She explained further, and their faces lit up with understanding.

"Of course! How clever." The woman exclaimed, then she drew her partner aside and began quietly talking with him.

"What an interesting pair. I wonder what Wathaurong is." Sebastian thought aloud.

"The Wathaurong are a clan of Native Australians who live around the western side of Port Phillip Bay, in the south-eastern area of the country. Since there are many dialects of their language, the particular one they speak is usually named after the clan that uses it." Sashael told him, earning herself a rather critical gaze.

"Maybe I should have you teach the young Lord. You seem to know a lot about geography, at least."

"I don't think so." She said bluntly, before turning to face the older couple who were striding towards them.

"Hello!" The man said loudly through a short yellow beard. "A strange sort of party, this is, isn't it?"

"I am not entirely convinced that it is a party." His partner said. "It doesn't feel like a party."

"Why else would we be here, woman? I tell you, Haldor is going to come out of his hidey-hole with a huge barrel of mead laughing at our surprise."

"I don't think this is the sort of place Haldor would even come near, let alone throw a party in, dear." She argued, and he paused, as though trying to think of another counter. "Don't mind him, love, he's always managed to show us up somehow wherever we go." Her blue eyes sparkled as she spoke to Sashael.

"Do not worry about it. I have met far worse people than him, I can assure you." She reassured the aproned woman, then glanced towards the boy in shorts, whose headache seemed to be getting worse, judging by how he now had both hands to his temples.

"All right, woman, you win again." The large man said, bringing her attention back to the pair in front of her. "You're right; it doesn't feel like a party anyway."

"I feel more like I'm being watched, don't you?" his partner said, and Sashael had to agree. There was a very ominous feel to the whole place. It seemed to emanate from a balcony opposite the door, high up above the group and very dark behind the maroon curtains that were tied back at either side.

"This is a very strange place indeed." Sebastian murmured.

"I've never seen anywhere like it in all of Sweden, and I've seen a lot of it!" The burly blonde boasted as he looked around. "Not even Stockholm has anywhere quite so grand!"

"Oh I wouldn't say that, dear. Remember when we visited the Cathedral? I thought it was quite spectacular…" the couple fell into another argument, and Sashael left them to it as she drifted over to the young man in pain.

"What is wrong?" She asked, and the young woman looked at her.

"I do not know. It just suddenly happened when we awoke here. Oh I wish there was something I could do for him!" she lamented, and Sashael approached the boy.

"Let me see if I can help." She offered, and the boy raised his deep brown eyes to meet her sky blue, then carefully nodded, lowering his hands.

Sashael gently took the boy's head in her own hands, and focussed. She opened her mind and searched for his, carefully probing until she was allowed inside. She looked for the source of the pain, slowly working closer and closer. She could feel him un-tensing beneath her palms, and she continued, picking away what, to her, seemed like an angry, throbbing redness which gradually grew denser as she approached the source. Carefully, steady…

Suddenly, there was what felt like a violent push, and she was thrown away. Her mind snapped shut, and she snatched her hands away in shock, her eyes widening.

"What is it?" the girl asked.

"I did the best I could, and I do believe I have made a great difference in his current condition, but I could not remove the source. It is like it fought back. It pushed me out; I think that his pain will gradually return over time, but he should be alright for now."

"Thank you." The boy said, his eyes earnest. "That was… how did you do that?"

"I just help where I can." Sashael replied instead, and crossed the room back to a contemplative Sebastian.

"Why did you help him?" He asked.

"Why should I not? I see no reason why I should not have done what I did."

"Even at the risk of discovery?"

"That does not matter. What matters now is finding our way out of here." Sashael said, pointedly ignoring his dagger-like stare.

Abruptly, there was a flash of purple on the balcony above them, and as one the four pairs turned to see a huge black humanoid standing staring down at them.

"Welcome, chosen champions. Welcome, Miah and Burnum; Hjordis and Thorburn; Nanashi and Ayuta; Sashael and Sebastian."

At the mention of their names, each couple flinched, or gaped at the massive being in front of them.

"What is that thing?!" Nanashi breathed.

"Welcome to the Ark Arena."


	4. Delay

The next chapter will be delayed due to other projects that need urgent attention.


End file.
